


Sixth Sense

by Rroselavy



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-30
Updated: 2010-06-30
Packaged: 2017-10-10 08:12:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/97547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rroselavy/pseuds/Rroselavy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you don't need eyes to see what is plainly in front of you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sixth Sense

**Author's Note:**

  * For [grendelity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/grendelity/gifts).



"Well?"

"There's nothing physically wrong with him, Sanzo." Hakkai shut the door quietly behind him and handed Sanzo the key card.

"So what are you saying?" Sanzo crossed his arms and scowled. Whatever Hakkai's response, he was sure it meant delays. The edges of the plastic card cut into his palm. A foreign object, as strange as the well-appointed hotel they'd stumbled upon.

"Sanzo, something happened after you left-"

"I _don't_ want to hear it," he warned. Sanzo had already weathered a litany of colorful epithets from Gojyo, from accusing him of 'not giving a fuck about anyone' but himself to just being a 'world-class dickhead,' and everything imaginable in between. The sidelong, silently accusing glances Hakkai had been giving him hadn't been much kinder. In fact, surprisingly, Goku, the only one who'd any right, had been the only one who wasn't pissed at him. Or, at least if Goku was pissed, he knew enough not to let it show.

"There was a girl," Hakkai continued softly, the overhead light glinting off his lenses. Sanzo's spine stiffened and he narrowed his eyes. _That_ would explain Goku's mysterious attitude.

"So?" he said, trying to remain nonchalant, and feeling angry for failing.

"She kissed him."

A rush of fury that was not _remotely_ connected to jealousy coursed through Sanzo's body. No, what he was _angry_ about was the thought of Goku hounding around after everything on two legs with breasts, much like Gojyo was known for. He felt the key card bow in his palm as his hand tightened into a fist.

"Do you think that's what's bothering him?" he asked carefully. Hakkai sighed and ran his hand through his hair. Sanzo noticed he looked tired and his face was pale and drawn. He'd expended a lot of energy trying to heal Goku.

Hakkai shook his head. "Worse has happened to him." Sanzo felt his eyes widen in surprise at the particularly barbed comment. He was about to ask for clarification of that statement when Hakkai spoke again. "He's been asking after you."

He didn't want to face Goku. Not like this, having to see those unseeing eyes staring out into space, an open, unguarded, bewildered expression on his face, reminding Sanzo once more of how powerless he was. He'd wanted Hakkai to fix it. He didn't want to hear that Goku's problem wasn't fixable. Or worse, it was something _he_ had to fix.

And he didn't want to think that Goku's sudden blindness was all about a girl. For that, Goku could fix himself--if he was pining away after some skirt, that wasn't Sanzo's problem. He loosened his grip on the keycard.

A hand fell weightless on his shoulder and, as soon as Sanzo glanced up, it dropped away in a graceful arc, coming to a rest at Hakkai's side. The fingers had been warm, still buzzing with _chi._

"I think Goku needs some reassurance."

"You do." Sanzo arched a brow and waited for Hakkai's inevitable conclusion.

Hakkai nodded curtly. "Just ... go talk to him. Let him know you haven't left."

_Again_.

That, in retrospect, had been a truly bone-headed thing to do. Not only had it fueled a rift in their tenuous alliance, it had exposed Sanzo as a weak link. He'd gotten in over his head fast enough, and they'd ended up having to save his sorry ass. And Goku. Goku's simple retort of _So what?_ had cut against all Sanzo's fears and apprehensions that he'd refused to acknowledge. There was no denying in the face of such clear evidence; they all had each others' backs.

Hakkai stepped away from the door, clearing the path for him.

"Get some rest." It was a useless remark. Hakkai would do what he damn well wanted to do, regardless of what Sanzo ordered.

The door stared blankly at him. Sanzo took a deep breath, slid the key smoothly into the slot and then turned the knob. The room was dark. Hakkai had drawn the curtains and it took Sanzo a couple of seconds for his eyes to make out Goku's form in the bed. He was sitting up, his arms wrapped around his knees. It looked like he was trying to make himself disappear. Sanzo slipped the key card into the folds of his robes.

"Sanzo?" Goku's voice sounded small from across the room; he looked even smaller in the huge bed that dominated the space. Sanzo was reminded of the first time he'd heard Goku speak, years ago, from behind the solid bars of his mountaintop prison.

Sanzo edged to the side of the bed and clicked the light on. He sat down on the edge of the mattress, trying to formulate what he needed to say to Goku, Hakkai's subtle admonishment still ringing in his ears.

"H'kkai says that I'm the only one who can make me see," Goku said sadly.

"Apparently," Sanzo agreed, suddenly feeling an urge to pull out a cigarette, light up and escape into the soothing embrace of nicotine.

"But I don't know how!" Goku protested. "I don't know what I did ta make this happen, so how can I undo it?" His eyes were wide and unseeing. Sanzo hated their blank expression, hated more the tears that seemed ready to brim from them. Goku didn't cry, damn it. Goku turned his head away from him. Sanzo despised feeling so impotent in the face of his misery.

Sanzo leaned forward, wrapping his hands around Goku's biceps. "The first thing you need to do is calm down, Monkey," he gritted.

Goku pulled back and scooted away from Sanzo, easily slipping from his grip. "I am calm, Sanzo," he stated defiantly.

And, for all intents and purposes, Goku _was_ calm. And closed off. Opaque, even. He was holding something back; of that much, Sanzo was certain.

Sanzo, on the other hand, wasn't feeling calm at all. He knew there were things they needed to talk about, things Goku needed to understand. Despite what Hakkai and Gojyo might have thought, Sanzo hadn't abandoned Goku, not at all.

"Look," he started, "if this is about me 'abandoning' you-"

Goku swung his head around toward Sanzo's voice. "You didn't abandon me. At least that ain't the way I saw it."

Sanzo nodded his head and let out a breath. He didn't need to expand on that, not at the moment. Goku understood what had happened, why he'd fled, and that was all that mattered. Sanzo felt relieved and, on the heels of that easement, not a little pissed at the way Gojyo and Hakkai had carried on. They didn't give Goku enough credit.

"And I'm not going to leave you behind now, either," he added, hoping it would be enough to reassure Goku.

"I don't think that's what's bothering me." Goku picked nervously at the coverlet spread over his legs and Sanzo waited for him to elaborate. As the seconds ticked by into minutes, it became apparent that he was going to have to prod Goku.

"Is this about that girl?"

Goku's face became a mask and his complexion blanched.

"What girl?" he asked Sanzo carefully.

Sanzo knew he was heading in the right direction, but that realization didn't make the conversation any more palatable. He closed his eyes tried to imagine what she looked like. She'd have to be pretty; Goku had always liked pretty things. When they'd lived at Keiun, he'd forever been bringing Sanzo flowers of every persuasion, and interesting rocks, and, in the autumns, uniquely colored leaves. No, she wouldn't be brassy, nor her beauty contrived, Sanzo thought darkly, a bitter taste forming in his mouth. Maybe he'd chase that cigarette with some whiskey.

"The girl you kissed."

Goku blinked a few times, but Sanzo noted that he didn't try to deny it. Once again, the conversation stuttered to a stop.

Sanzo took another deep breath. "Goku, if you want to be with her-"

"She's dead, Sanzo."

_Worse has happened to him_.

Sanzo felt his guts wrench as Hakkai's words echoed. He knew all too well what it was like to be abandoned by someone you'd grown attached to; and the truth was, as much as it pained him, Sanzo couldn't see Goku kissing someone without being attached to her.

"And, I didn't kiss her, she kissed me," Goku corrected. Sanzo hated the sadness in Goku's voice. He'd wanted to protect him from that kind of pain; at the same time, he'd always known that it was an impossible task. Sanzo had no illusions that he might not be returning to China. He couldn't protect Goku from that, and Sanzo preferred not to think about what would happen to Goku when he did die. One thing Sanzo did know, though, was he would lay Heaven to waste if Goku was returned to a prison cell then.

"I didn't even know her name." Goku continued, unprompted. "It wasn't like it meant anything, either." Sanzo's mind was reeling with Goku's admissions, but he remained quiet, waiting for Goku to continue.

"I guess she kissed me to save my life." Goku sighed and pulled his knees in tighter.

The room felt too close for Sanzo, and a bead of sweat slide down between his shoulder blades. He rolled up his sutra and laid it on the nightstand, then undid his breast armor. Next, he fished out his smokes and Smith and Wesson and placed them besides the sutra. He shrugged out of his robes, letting them pool at his waist. Cooler air caressed his shoulders.

"But it wasn't ... Sanzo? What was your first kiss like?"

The question took Sanzo by surprise. His first and only kiss had ended with the aggressor doubled-over, howling in pain from a well-placed heel. Sanzo didn't feel like revisiting that, and luckily, Goku took his silence for what it was, and continued to talk.

"I liked her, Sanzo, but not like that! But I didn't want her to die. She knew she wasn't coming back!"

"Goku, do you think you could have saved her? It was her decision." Sanzo didn't know the circumstances exactly, but the pieces were falling together. When he and Bishop Grosse had left the human settlement, there had been talk of a suicide mission of youkai who'd caved in the well, rendering the village uninhabitable. Not that the greedy bastards didn't deserve it.

The guilt that hung in the air was palpable, but Sanzo couldn't tell if it was Goku's, or his. He remembered that feeling of responsibility, of complicity, the second-guessing, the what-ifs; he was still plagued by it all. Sanzo suddenly felt overwhelmingly grateful that she _had_ protected Goku; she must have loved him.

"I know that. She did what she had ta do," Goku agreed eventually.

Goku slid down from his sitting position and curled on his side, away from Sanzo. "What really bothers me is forgetting. I don't want to forget."

"Goku, you don't forget the people who mean a lot to you."

"But I'm afraid I'll forget what you look like!"

"It's-" Sanzo stopped abruptly. He wasn't expecting this to be about him at all! But Goku's heartfelt confession set off a resonant ache in his chest. It took a few seconds for him to be able to breathe again.

Telling Goku that his blindness was only temporary wasn't going to help. How many nights had he laid awake conjuring Koumyou's image in his mind's eye? How long had he cultivated that image, only to feel despair as details faded away into oblivion? Even now, he could barely remember the timbre of his master's voice, the nuanced inflections of his speech. But Koumyou was dead, and Sanzo wasn't. He was very much flesh and blood and alive.

"Goku, give me your hands," he ordered softly.

Goku turned over and held them out. Sanzo took them by the wrists and then placed them on either side of his face.

"You can remember," he said gruffly, letting go. For a few seconds, Goku's hands were motionless. Then they began to move, reverently tracing the planes of Sanzo's face. He wondered where he should draw the line, waiting for that familiar panic, that visceral sense of revulsion to hit, the moment he began to feel violated.

It never came. Goku's calloused fingers slid over his cheekbones, then along the contours of his eyebrows. His thumbs feathered over Sanzo's lips and he had the urge to draw one into his mouth. They parted and a thumb skimmed over the moist flesh.

Sanzo trembled as acute arousal washed over him. He'd felt _something_ for Goku for a long time, but had always been able to divert whatever it was into the task they'd been charged with. It hadn't been difficult to avoid a growing interest. There'd been no time, and no room for that kind of attachment.

He swallowed hard. Now it was becoming near impossible to ignore. Goku's fingers slid over the constricting muscles of Sanzo's throat. He sat motionless, his eyes focused on the nuances of Goku's face, on the intense concentration of his expression. It was as if he were committing Sanzo's features to memory.

Goku's hands descended, spreading apart to follow Sanzo's collarbones, and then slid over his bare shoulders. Sanzo felt his control slipping. He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the images that cascaded through his mind-snapshots of Goku--mundane pictures that now took on a sexual charge. He wanted to run his hands over Goku's toned body, taste the salty tang of his skin, to hear his name fall from Goku's lips in a needy mantra.

"Goku," he whispered. A warning that ended up sounding like a plea when a blunt nail raked over an erect nipple, the silk sheathe only sharpening the edge of Sanzo's desire. He let out a shuddering breath and then surged forward. Goku met him halfway and their mouths crashed together artlessly, then with a simple, concurrent adjustment, fit perfectly together.

Goku tasted sublime.

Sanzo cupped the back of his head with one hand, the other caressed over his bare back. As the kiss grew more heated, their tongues delving further into the uncharted territory of each other's mouth, he felt an insistent tug at his robes; they loosened and fell from his waist. Goku was kneeling in front of him now. The coverlet slipped from his hips and Goku pressed against him. Sanzo groaned when he felt Goku's hard length rub against his.

Goku was hungry. Only this hunger wasn't about to be sated by meatbuns or onigiri.

Sanzo could feel the need vibrating through him, it echoed within his own body. He broke the seal of their kiss and trailed his tongue over the angle of Goku's jaw, then nipped and tugged gently on a fleshy earlobe. Goku liked that, judging by the groan that escaped his lips. When Sanzo tongued along the shell, Goku grabbed his ass firmly and began to thrust against him.

Fuck, he was going to come in his pants the way Goku was sliding against him, but Sanzo was helpless to stop it. All he knew was that for that moment it was just he and Goku alone together-there was no journey, no mission, no ghost of a dead girl-just the slip and rub of their hands and bodies, the friction honing his need, pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

Goku cried out and his grip on Sanzo's ass tightened. Sanzo felt a warmth blossom between their bodies, and then he too was coming, the heady scent of their spend perfuming the air.

Goku shuddered in Sanzo's arms and burrowed his head against the hollow of Sanzo's throat. Sanzo dipped his chin and, without thinking, kissed the top of Goku's head. He knew they'd have to talk about what had just happened-what they'd just done-but for now he was content to listen to their labored breathing, to feel Goku's heart pounding a counterpoint to his own until they'd both calmed down.

"I still can't see." Goku's muffled voice didn't hide his surprise. Despite the dire statement, Sanzo couldn't stop a grin from forming.

"I'm no miracle-worker, Goku." Goku's arms tightened around his waist. "Try not to think about it," he added, his thumb and forefinger tilting Goku's face up. He stared into Goku's blind gaze. "And to answer your question--as far as first kisses go-for one that I _wanted_, it was all right."


End file.
